Gratitude is Mightier than Self-Pity

I've been in a self-pitying mood for most of today. I absolutely despise realizing that I am feeling sorry for myself for no good reason. However this one was hard to shake.

I could not for the life of me fall asleep last night! It was storming with my window open. It was beautiful, but I had no one to share the beauty with. I find storms more relaxing with I am with someone who makes me feel safe. Luckily, I had my sort-of crush to talk to. He had me listen to his radio program which could have been a deal breaker. Lets face it, in my world if you don't have good taste in music, we cannot be together. It's essential. I was thrilled to learn he has SUPERB taste in music, for two hours I did not go unimpressed by the mixture of Josh Ritter, The Decemberists, Death Cab for Cutie, Nickelcreek...on and on. We talked about the possibility that I could go hang out in the study lounge since the thunderstorm made me feel a little lonely, magnified by the cuteness of the couple in the room. I considered the fact that I would have to then put on pants, something I am clearly not a fan of. He finds my disdain for pants comical and told me I could go without. In the end I put on pants and ended up snuggling with my pig pillow pet in the study lounge. Eventually he found his way over as well. There we remained until a little after 5 a.m. We talked about everything! Back in my bed I debated running back out screaming "KISS ME YOU FOOL!" but deemed it a tad overdramatic. I finally fell asleep around 6am. I had very odd dreams, and when my alarm sounded at 9:15 I refused to acknowledge it's existence. Thats how I wound up sleeping through my 10 o'clock class. Then upon waking (around 1pm) I realized I had forgotten to take any of my medicine yesterday. Cue withdrawal. Upon returning from the bathroom I realized I needed to get ready for my next class. Clad in yoga pants and my pajama shirt I am startled by a high pitched noise and a boy screaming loudly. Cue Fire drill. I understand you need to make sure the alarms are working properly, but I'm twenty years old, do I really need to practice for fire emergencies anymore? I'm awkwardly standing outside, half awake, ready to curl into a ball when I realize my crush has found me in the frustrated crowd. Great. I'm wearing the same shirt you saw my in last night, haven't brushed my hair or teeth and now you're going to come talk to me? There is also the fact that on top of this I have three exams and a paper due tomorrow.

This is how I look after 4 hours of sleep. And how my crush saw me.

My day was off to a great start. I'm pretty sure I felt like the mud covering the bottom of my yoga pants. I let everyone know what a terrible day I was having. Everyone offered sympathy, some were in the same boat. We kvetched (bitched in yiddish), frowned and laughed at one another's horrific lives.

My Crush. (JK it's Matt Smith, he's an obsession)

Suddenly something stopped me from all this silly pity. I was scrolling through twitter (in an attempt to procrastinate of course) and came upon a tweet from Tiny Buddha. It lead to a blog post (read it here Tiny Wisdom: The Tiny Wonders We Take for Granted). The post begins with a quote that really jarred my attitude.

“There are two ways to live: you can live as if nothing is a miracle, or you can live as if everything is a miracle.” –Albert Einstein

This quote from Albert Einstein really spoke to me. I've always known everything in life is a miracle, but I find myself forgetting this from time to time. Seeing these words in front of me really gave me perspective to how amazing my life is going. The fact that I even have a crush, the fact that I am privileged enough to be medicated. All these things are little miracles.

Here is my friend being really creepy!

It's funny how quickly I forget how much gratitude I feel in my life. Just yesterday I was at a meeting for the Alternative Spring Break program that I'm going on with Hillel. I thought all night how lucky I am to have this chance to go help and meet the people of New Orleans this spring break. I also had rehearsal last night for Vagina Monologues, something else in my life that I am so thankful for. Thankful that I made it into the show, thankful for the wonderful women I've met. I am just so deep in gratitude for all the amazing things going on in my life, that it is a shock to find such self-pity today.

I keep a journal, outside of this e-journal. I use it to record my dreams and various quotes I find and enjoy. I think I will also make it a gratitude journal. It may be all over the place but it will remind me who I am. I am a dreamer, a life-long student, and gracious.

I'll close with a song that I think speaks to this...and is just a really great song. (Just Breathe- Pearl Jam)

Me, Myself and I

The song above^ (Be By Myself by Asher Roth) kind of describes my attitude at the moment. I actually came to know this song through my ex. Only now does it feel fitting of my life.

I haven't been in a serious relationship for about a year now. Which for me is relatively unheard of. It has taken me a LONG time to get here. Sure I've had a few slip ups along the road, the decision to sleep with my ex again over the summer was not one of my wiser choices. However, I also was able to go tell him to shove it over winter break :)

The Actual Conversation-Stupid Boy

I never thought I could function without someone steady in my life. Someone to text when I couldn't fall asleep at night, or hang out with on the weekends. This has been a huge period of growth for me. I was able to find Bri, in a context other than "Bri and (insert generic guy's name here)" and I like her a lot. She is creative, loud, funny, strong. Yet she is also shy, reclusive, sensitive, and smart. Let me tell you, she is ridiculously caring.

Girls Night Out with My Friends :)

Aaaalright...I'm feeling weird talking in third person so lets switch perspective here.
I've taken a lot more risks being single, like making friends even when I'm feeling super shy. Or going out on the weekends even when I'd rather stay in and sleep. I go places and do lots of things by myself. You think this wouldn't be a huge accomplishment for a 20 year old, but it's huge! I have a much fatter wallet without the presence of a significant other. I've even learned that sometimes loneliness is better than choosing someone who isn't the right fit for you. I never thought I'd be the one to end a relationship because the other person liked me more, but I did.

I am slowly learning what I want, and who I am. I'm not quite there yet so I'm not ready for another serious relationship right now. I just want to take things super slow, and have fun being my own person!

Sometimes I still miss having someone there to hold me, or tell me I'm beautiful. I'm sad I won't have someone special at my shows, but I'll have my friends and they mean so much to me. I occasionally resent couples who can never leave each other's side, but I think thats out of personal preference and not loneliness. Maybe I'll meet someone special who loves Doctor Who, listens to The Decemberists, and enjoys deep conversations. Maybe I won't, but thats okay, because I do! And I will always have myself!

“Something inside you emerges….an innate, indwelling peace, stillness, aliveness. It is the unconditioned, who you are in your essence. It is what you had been looking for in the love object. It is yourself.”
- Eckhart Tolle

And now another a song to end with (The Way I Am by Ingrid Michealson). This is what I'm looking for in my next relationship :)

The Fluidity of Me

"Sexuality is Fluid"
It's a phrase that gets tossed around a lot. I'm not sure what I think of it to be honest. Most of my friends are so straight I don't think they could even draw a curved line! I love them for this, but I don't think I could ever picture them not being straight. (that being said, if any of you ever feel like you aren't straight as an arrow, you know you can always come to me and I'll love you no matter what!)

For me sexuality has been a struggle. Not just who I'm attracted to, but how often I find myself attracted/ craving sexual attention. Lets go back to the beginning.

1993-
I'm two years old. You can usually find me in a frog position on the floor rocking back and forth. Two fingers in my mouth, blanky in hand. It sooths me, I feel peace. I think about lots of things while I do this- family, toys, tv shows. At a certain point in the process my head floods with thoughts and images and then BOOM one thing sticks out, then it's over.
I realize now that what I had been doing was masturbating. Orgasming.

1997-
I am six years old. "I'll be the boy!" I am always the boy. My alter-ego is Levi. I pull him off perfectly. My hair has been short for years, I push it back with finesse. I have a stick straight body, and when I'm not wearing skirts or dresses I am often mistaken for a boy. Levi is artsy and sensitive, but always very very horny. He prefers tall blonds with blue eyes, and is in awe with the female body.

It's that time in our game of house for the mommy and daddy to have alone time. "Lets kiss!" I suggest. We put our hands to our mouths and do our version of a stage kiss. Sloppily kissing my hand, I realize I'd rather be kissing her. I tend to turn all my games of house sexual at this stage in my life. Sometimes I would just run my hands along 'my wife's' sides, sometimes we'd just stage kiss. But I imagined much more.

1998-
I am 7 years old. I remember feeling a rush, knowing what I was doing was somehow not acceptable. I didn't understand why. My best friend is lying on my bed completely naked. Mom had told me before that my friends and I aren't supposed to get naked around each other, it was "inappropriate" (I kind of hate that word, who gets to decide what is appropriate?). I lean over her "what seems to be the problem?"
"Well doctor, my tummy hurts"
"Maybe you're going to have a baby! Let me check!"
I run my hands along her stomach. Then all of the sudden I hear it...stairs creaking.
"Quick! My mom is coming, hide somewhere!" I distinctly remember her hiding behind the corner of my dresser. It wasn't enough, mom saw her standing there completely naked. I immediately felt so much shame. I was a terrible person and I didn't even know why. I didn't see my friend for a little while after that. I think friends came and went because mothers decided they didn't want their daughters to be friends with a girl like me.
I remember around the same time another best friend and I would play barbies and when the barbies would start to make out and stuff I would really really want to make out with my best friend. We thought sex was when a boy peed on a girl. I would always play the ken doll so when it was time for sex I'd make a long "shhh" sound to signify peeing.

2003-
I am twelve years old. My best friend is one of the most popular girls in school. She is beautiful. She has thick long hair, a gorgeous carmel color. She has cheeks like a chipmunk, but on her they look perfect. She is so svelte, yet strong from swimming. All the boys love her. I love her. When she and my crush three-way called me to tell me they were going to start dating, even though they both knew I liked him. I don't know if I was more crushed that he was dating her, or that she was dating him.

I helped her time and time again with boys that broke her heart. She'd cry to me on the phone, in the crawl space of her room. I'd help her because I was a good friend, be silly so she would laugh and forget her hurt. But really I would cry, because I knew she deserved better, I knew I would treat her better.

2005-
I am fourteen. I'm in love with my best friend. I told myself it was a friendly kind of love. But at this point I realized this was the first time I'd really fallen for a girl. I wrote about her in my diary, later I would tear out these pages. I dated lots of guys, many of whom I'm still attracted to! None of them I really loved.

2007-
I am nearly 16, I have my first serious boyfriend. He is amazing. I love the way his bones protrude from under his thin skin, the way his big hands engulf my face when he leans in to kiss me. He is the first person I told about the things in my past I was so unsure of. He is the first person I give everything to. It doesn't last

2008-
I am 16. It's the summer before my junior year. I can drive. I have some older friends. I am a lifegaurd. Tan, thin with extensions that are long and blonde. I am hot and I know it. I sometimes refer to this as my reckless summer. I go to parties, drink, and make out with boys like it's my job. I meet my next serious boyfriend at the end of this summer.

2009-
I am 17. I'm depressed. I have a serious boyfriend. The second and only other boy I've given everything to. He becomes my world, but he would never let me become his. I'm too crazy, too this too that. Not enough of what he needs. I am not beautiful enough, not thin enough. I hate myself for not being everything he wants me to be.

2010-
I am 19. It's fall of my first year in college. It's a party in my room. The last boyfriend and I had broken up, but were still close. She is still in high school. She is drunk. She kisses me. She likes me. We talk about so much. She calls me beautiful, she listens, she cries. I am enamored with the warmth she fills me with. One day she stops talking to me. She leaves me for someone I could never be. A boy.

2011-
I am still 19. I am being awoken from my souls slumber. It wants to know who I am, it wants to know what makes me happy. I begin to find pieces of things that I can piece together to create happiness. I finally find what I've been looking for nearly my whole life. Someone who understands. Someone who's empathy matches my own. She is three years my senior, and she is everything I want to be. She teaches me how to find myself, holds my hand as I look for happiness. She is my first pure love. Love that makes me feel happy instead of sad. Love that feels full instead of empty. Love that asks for nothing in return. For a brief period of time we get to pretend like she isn't leaving in a few weeks. Like she isn't going across the country to start the rest of her life. That was a beautiful period of time. I will never regret that time, and I am so glad to still have her in my life :)

After finding that love, I realized I needed to figure out what my sexuality means to me. I've decided it is not something that defines me, but is inherently a part of me.

I am not straight, bisexual, pansexual, a lesbian.

I am Bri, a sexual being. I find love and sexual desire based upon the person's soul. I kind of enjoy the term I use in my head- omnisexual. I like all things sexual :)

So there you have it. Perhaps my sexuality is fluid, strange, unbelievable. But you cannot define it, because it does not define me. It simply is.

Cunt

You're probably cringing right now at the title of this entry, you are aren't you?
Maybe you're wondering...'did she really just say that word?'

Yes, I said cunt, C-U-N-T!

I think vagina is a nice medical term, but such an ugly name for such an amazing extraodinary creature.


So, I've been thinking a lot about cunt, and no it's not because I'm on some sex binge. (In fact, quite the opposite) It is because I landed myself a role in the Vagina Monologues. If you've never heard of this play, or Eve Ensler, immidiately divert your attention from my blog and research. Go on! You have my permission! (I'd suggest going here too The V-Day Movement)

Eve Ensler

I decided to audition on a whim, missing my old theater days, wanting to find new friends with similar artistic interests. I didn't even realize I was auditioning for this amazing play that I'd always wanted to see. I told the story about The Mysterious Incident of the Piss in the Nighttime (for that story go here The Mysterious Incident of the Piss in the Nighttime) and then somehow landed the great role of introducing the monologues.

We've only had two rehearsals so far, but I can already tell this is going to be a life changing experience. The cast of strong smart women is amazing, we are all excited and nervous about this journey we are embarking on.

Last night I sat down, happy to have some alone time in my room, and thought about what I felt like doing. I recently bought lots of art supplies (see previous post) and so I decided I wanted to draw vagina's. Strange? I thought so.

Me and One of My Vaginas

I wanted to be able to see them as beautiful, as works of art. That is after all how Eve Ensler sees them. I decided I wanted to make my own interpretation of beautiful vagina's. I went to work creating and almost began to cry, it felt so wonderful to draw, and I began to realize how extremely beautiful vagina's are. I also learned I have a knack for drawing them! (I especially adore the one with pink glitter)

Aforementioned Sparkly Cunt

I felt like a different person sitting at my desk, drinking tea from an inspirational mug, and finding the beauty in cunt. 

Oops, my feminism is showing. But really, women are so powerful, graceful, beautiful, down right poetic. I love all the things I'm learning about myself and about feminism.

I AM WOMAN HEAR ME ROAR!

In the words of my lovely director "peace, and cunt love"
-The Queer Jewess

Sand Through an Hourglass

It's been ages since I've written anything, I know. This space is like my diary...one that I suppose a few people read. I've always made my diaries for someone else to read one day. I write to a future me, make my entries personal. I write with a hope that one day someone will discover my words and find them useful in their own life. So this is becoming an e-diary for me :)

Fall quarter felt like walking through a tar desert. Sticky, hot, and smelly?
I was struggling, falling to my knees in the tar and realizing I was stuck. I felt like lying down in the hot tar, letting it consume me because I was tired of the struggle.

I wanted to drop out of university, pursue my dreams.
My realization was that I didn't know what my dreams were...
Who am I?
Who/ what do I actually want to become?
I couldn't answer these questions, they haunted me through the last weeks of fall. "You don't want this, Bri!" "What about all your friends?" "You hate your stupid classes!" "But you've made so much progress!!"
The internal fighting was unbearable at times, I slept all day and the fighting kept me up at night. I took sleeping pills, but it didn't drown them out.
I was beyond ready to go home for winter break.

My bed is my throne (this isn't my bed)

I got home and did a lot of thinking, sleeping and crying. I had ended a relationship-esque thing at school just before break, I went home feeling like a lonely dog lady. (Harley is pretty cat-like though.) I talked to a lot of people, used my dreams to test out "what-ifs".

I ultimately realized, there must be an explanation for why school feels like walking through sticky melting tar. I was talking to my brothers girlfriend when I had an epiphany. She was describing her troubled previous year at school. I couldn't believe it, she is so bright, yet she struggled in school just as I had. ADD had been her problem, and her solution was ADD medication. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I have ADD. I turned to my mother "Mom...I think I have ADD" "Bri, I think you do too." Mom realized that when I was previously tested for a learning disability it was noted that I had trouble staying focused while completing long tasks. She immediately called my neurologist to see what he thought. He agreed with our hypothesis and thought he would have me try out a prescription. I started the medicine two weeks ago. I've now made it through the first two weeks of the quarter. I have taken on more than I ever have, I clean my room regularly, and I haven't napped during school days. I am also happier by an extreme margin!
I've decided to find out what my dreams are and go for them. I will take more risks to find my passions, and be more creative, because it keeps me alive. I love art and all it's forms.

My meds had a photo shoot :)

So there you have it. I'm a Queer ADD-battling Jewess, and I am a damn happy one at that.